


something dumb to do

by IvyOnTheHolodeck



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: 5+1 Things, Crack, Fluff and Humor, Getting married while drunk, Humor, Juno Steel is a slut for marriage, Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, Multi, Other, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyOnTheHolodeck/pseuds/IvyOnTheHolodeck
Summary: I made a dumbassposton Tumblr ages ago about how Juno's absolutely a slut for marriage, y'all seemed intrigued by the idea, so here we are.
Relationships: Juno Steel/Other(s), Juno Steel/So many others, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 10
Kudos: 87





	something dumb to do

**Author's Note:**

> I made a dumbass [post](https://ivyontheholodeck.tumblr.com/post/189561598963/juno-so-how-are-you-feeling-about-the) on Tumblr ages ago about how Juno's absolutely a slut for marriage, y'all seemed intrigued by the idea, so here we are.

Juno’s about ten seconds from face-planting in his oatmeal when Vespa throws the comms at him.

He’s been trying to get better, for real this time, and he knows that includes sticking to a regular sleep schedule. Yesterday’s heist, though, had been scheduled to take four hours and actually took sixteen. Mx. Proust, it would seem, was more paranoid than a teen with pierced nipples in an electromagnet factory. Juno had been afraid he and Jet would never shoot their way out.

So, yeah, given that Juno hasn’t seen a pillow in thirty-plus hours, he thinks he’s justified in drooping over family breakfast.

On the fringe of his awareness, he tracks Buddy popping bagels into the toaster, Rita shaking technicolor cereal into chocolate milk, and Nureyev sipping chamomile tea while looking unfairly put together. The thief’s been up as long as the rest of them, but his hair falls soft across his forehead like it was arranged there with careful fingers. Nureyev catches his gaze and gives him a quick smile that makes Juno’s stomach drop.

Which is to say, yeah, he’s staring at Nureyev like a lovestruck idiot when the comms buzz.

The noise is enough to shock him out of his haze, and he focuses back on his oatmeal. Vespa slams down the bread knife and shoves away from the table, growling, “Bud!”

“Can’t be my sister, darling, she promised to call this evening.”

Vespa grumbles and yanks open the junk drawer, tossing lockpicks and cold fusion power packs aside in her search. With a huff of victory, she digs out a set of banged-up comms and presses them to her ear. “Yeah?”

Juno stares down at the congealing mush in his bowl. “Getting better” means eating healthier, which is the only reason he’s trying to choke down this beige sludge. It was Jet’s suggestion, and Jet’s practically the king of self-care. Juno wills himself to reach for the spoon. He does not want to reach for the spoon.

“Oh yeah?” Vespa says, something funny in her voice. “Sure, put him through. Steel!”

Juno glances up just in time to fumble the comms she lobs at his face. “The hell are you-”

“Hyperion City Police Department,” Vespa says. Juno’s familiar with Vespa’s range of visible emotions: irritated, angry, outraged, bitter, murderous, and (exclusively when she’s looking at Buddy) besotted. This smirk, though, he doesn’t recognize. “They say they’ve got your husband in custody.”

Across the table, Nureyev chokes on his tea.

Juno gawks at Vespa, mystified. “My-?”

It clicks into place. HCPD. Husband.

Goddamnit, this cannot be happening.

“Juno Steel?” the comms ask, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Burning under the gazes of his crewmates, Juno pinches the bridge of his nose. ”Yeah, you got the lady, put me through.”

There’s a moment of static on the other end of the line. And then, brightly, “Jay-Jay!”

“I swear to god, Mercury!”

“Hey, Jay, don’t think this was my idea. I was minding my own business when these cops showed up and started talking about ‘noise complaints’ and ‘disturbing people,’ and I mean yeah my brass insect repellent service isn’t quiet but talk about ungrateful-”

The toaster dings. Juno wants to get sucked out of an airlock. “Your what service.”

“Oh right! You haven’t heard my new business model!”

Juno buries his head in his hands. He can hear Rita giggling.

“So you know how you never see spiders listening to classical music? Well I figure, what if it’s cause they’re afraid of it! A whole new way to keep bugs out of your house, and it doesn’t use pesticides or localized thermonuclear devices or anything!”

“Let me get this straight,” Juno says through his hands. “You showed up at someone’s apartment with a loudspeaker-”

“Geez, Jay-Jay, a loudspeaker? With someone else’s music? I didn’t want to copy anyone’s rights-“

“Violate copyright,” Juno says faintly. There’s a smothered noise from where Vespa has a fist stuffed in her mouth, hunched over and shaking with laughter.

“So I bought the biggest instrument I could find at the Old Town pawn shop and decided to make my own!”

“You showed up at some apartment complex with a tuba you can’t play,” Juno summarizes. “Just tell me they’d asked you to be there.”

“Well, no, but it was a free trial!”

“And let me guess, you need me to bail you out.”

“Aw, Jay, could you? I’d do it myself but the royalties from my new book mostly went to the tuba.”

“Of course they did,” Juno sighs, reluctant fondness warming his sternum. “You’re lucky I love you, Mercury.”

“You... do?”

The surprise in Mick’s voice hurts. Rita’s not the only friend Juno needs to get better at valuing. He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, Mick, course I do. I’m, uh, trying to get better about telling people.”

Mick sniffles. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me in years.”

“Don’t rub it in,” Juno grumbles. “I’ll get Rita to send over the money. Oh, and Mick?”

“Yeah?”

Juno’s eye flickers over to Nureyev, who’s watching him, tea forgotten. He wishes he could tell what’s going on in the thief’s head. “Stop telling people we’re married.”

“But we had a ceremony and everything!”

“When we were _nine_.”

“With an ordained minister!”

“Benten filling out some form online one afternoon because we were bored did not make him an actual minister.”

“Hate to break it to you, Jay, but it did. I checked the city records and everything.”

“...I want a divorce.”

“Love you too!” says Mick brightly. “Give Rita a hug for me!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Wait, really? In that case give her two hugs! Or ten! Or-“

“Goodbye, Mercury.” Juno cuts the call. Then he pushes his oatmeal out of the way and slowly, deliberately bangs his forehead against the table.

“Mistah Steel?” says Rita.

Juno mutters an unintelligible reply.

“I sent over the money from your account, and I can getcha some divorce papers from the Hyperion state department.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“That it? Mistah Steel, I think you’re forgettin’ something.” Juno raises his head from the table to find Rita holding out her arms pointedly.

Once upon a time, he would have rolled his eyes and brushed her off. Any more vulnerability and he’d have broken out in hives. But he’s getting better.

Juno gets up from the table and gives Rita a hug. She does, after all, give the best hugs.

“Touching,” Buddy says, spreading peanut butter on her bagel. She pats Juno on the back as she slips around him to sit next to Vespa, tangling their feet under the table.

“Cat got your tongue, Ransom?” Vespa asks slyly.

Juno glances over to Nureyev as the thief’s mask snaps back into place. Nureyev flashes Vespa a smile sharp as an icicle and twice as cold. “Merely reflecting on our next maneuver, my dear. Excuse me, I ought to review the security plans for the next job.” He scoops up his teacup and sweeps from the room.

Juno frowns at Nureyev’s retreating back. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the thief was jealous.

His heart skips at the idea of tracking Nureyev down specifically to offer him a hug. Most likely the thief would scoff at him. But if he didn’t...

“Mistah Steel, not that I ain’t glad you’re finally figuring out that you’re a softie at heart, but you gotta let me go before my cereal gets soggy.”

Oh, right. Juno steps back and watches Rita dig into her breakfast. The chocolate milk has an iridescent sheen. He looks back at his untouched bowl of oatmeal, sitting lumpy and beige on the table.

Juno’s getting better. That means eating better. But maybe what works for Jet isn’t what works for him.

Juno pushes the oatmeal aside, resolving to bring it to Jet in the infirmary later. “Buddy, are there any bagels left?”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on tumblr at [ivyontheholodeck](https://ivyontheholodeck.tumblr.com) \- come say hi!


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